


Breathe

by xenitha



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Investigations, Medium Length
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-31
Updated: 2003-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-27 07:15:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14420325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenitha/pseuds/xenitha
Summary: Mulder, Scully and Skinner investigate a series of murders in a small town involving cats. Lots of cats. Lots and lots of cats!





	Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

Breathe

## Breathe

### by Xenith

Title: Breathe 

Author: Xenith 

E-Mail: Rating:PG 

Classification: XFile 

Keywords: M/Sc/Sk friendship Disclaimer: The XFiles and all the characters belong to Chris Carter. This story is written in homage to a fine series, intended to keep the flame alive until CC gets us the next XF movie! Spoilers: None, but takes place assuming seasons 8 and 9 never happened. 

Archive: Sure! But e-mail me 

first. Feedback: Oh yes! Lots of it!! Lots and Lots!!! 

Monday morning 

2 a.m. 

Skinner fumbled for the phone in the dark room. He squinted, where were the damned glasses? There... 2 a-fuckin'-m in the... "H'lo?" He mumbled, trying to keep the phone in his hand. If this was Mulder calling about some asinine case of his he'd chew him a new asshole... 

"Walt? It's Matt. Look, I'm sorry about the time but I had to call you. I...I need your help. Shelley's dead." 

Skinner's eyes opened wide and he snapped on the bedside light. "What? What happened? She's only a year old! She wasn't sick or anything?" 

"No. At least not that we knew. They're calling it crib death; there's been a lot of it lately. Six...no, Shelley makes seven...kids have died over the past year in this town and nobody can figure out why. The Feds have been out here for three months and keep telling us some crap, that it's a statistical bubble, all a coincidence; they've tested the water, the soil, the air, everything..." The voice trailed off. 

"Shit. Matt, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do? I'll be on the next plane out," Skinner sat up and grabbed a pen, beginning to make a list of things to pack...things to do... 

"Well...um...that's why I called. You told me once that you supervise some kinda ghostbuster squad? Some agents that deal with weird shit?" 

Skinner set the pen down and frowned. "I do have some agents who specialize in, ah, unusual cases. Is there something odd about what happened to Shelley?" 

"The cops just laughed it off and the CDC guy hung up on me. She...died...last night and I'm the one who found her. I opened the door to her room and I could swear, it was dark but not that dark, y'know? I could swear I saw a cat crouched over her and...and...and it looked like it was drinking the breath out of her! I ran over to her crib and she wasn't breathing, so I started mouth to mouth and CPR. By the time the paramedics were there and the cops, the cat or whatever it was had disappeared. I don't know how it got in, or out." 

Skinner was silent for a moment, his eyes closed. 

"Walt, I know this is really weird, but you have to believe me. I'm not making this up!" 

"No, I believe you Matt. I'll take the next flight out and have my two best agents with me. We'll find out what happened." 

Monday 

4:00 a.m. 

The phone shrilled over the soft moaning from the t.v. set. Mulder grabbed it off the coffee table. "Y'uhh?" He rubbed his eyes and watched the two guys on the screen really turning on the busty blonde. 

"Mulder? Is that you? What's that noise?" The blonde had started to squeal with delight as Mulder hastily grabbed the remote and hit the mute button. 

"Nothing. The neighbors. What's up, sir?" 

"I have an important case for you and Scully. Meet me at the office in an hour. Be on time." 

The phone clicked before Mulder could answer it. 

5:00 a.m. 

"So what kind of bee do you suppose Skinner has up his ass on this fine Monday morning?" Mulder sipped gingerly at the Starbucks vente he'd picked up on the way in. "Calling us in this early, the aliens better have landed on the White House lawn." 

"Or maybe they landed on Skinner's lawn," Scully looked entirely too awake this early, linen suit neatly pressed and makeup perfect. Mulder felt rumpled next to her. 

Nobody was in the bullpen yet and the secretary's desk was vacant but they could see light leaking from the half closed door of Skinner's office. 

"You asked to see us, sir?" Scully gingerly pushed open the door to Skinner's office. 

Skinner was looking even grimmer than usual. He looked up expectantly and motioned them to seats. "Take a seat. I'll be right with you." He carefully folded what looked like a letter on blue stationery, then tucked it into an envelope and laid it carefully on the desk. He took a breath then looked up at his agents. 

"Thanks for coming in this early," he pulled off his glasses and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I have a new file for you." Replacing the glasses, he picked a folder off the desk and handed it to Scully then leaned back into his chair. She opened it and began reading, Mulder craning his neck to see. 

"I don't understand, sir. I can see that this involves a cluster of apparent crib deaths over a one year period. I don't see how this would be an X file." She lifted an eyebrow. "And I see that the CDC has already investigated and found that it's a statistical variation; no evident causes." 

Mulder took the file and began riffling through it, his brow wrinkling. 

Skinner leaned forward and cleared his throat. "Just because the CDC hasn't found a cause doesn't mean there isn't one. Over the past year, seven families in the town of Potterville have lost infants. The most recent death occurred two days ago and the child who died was my goddaughter. Her father tells me that just before he found her dead in her crib, he thought he saw an animal of some kind leaning over her and apparently...drinking in her breath." 

Skinner met their eyes somberly. "He says he thinks it was a cat but can't be sure. He chased it away from the crib and was so busy administering CPR to his daughter that he never noticed what happened to the animal." 

"And that's why this is an X file?" Mulder asked softly. "There are legends..." 

"Old wives tales, invented to explain SIDS before modern medicine..."Scully trailed off nervously. 

"Legends that describe cats stealing the 

breath out of babies," Mulder added. "Maybe the old wives were onto something?" He closed the file. 

"Sir, we're sorry for your loss and we'll be on a plane as soon as possible." 

"Don't worry, I already have our tickets," Skinner opened the desk drawer and handed eticket printouts to the agents. "I'll be going as well. Shelley's funeral is tomorrow. Our plane leaves at 2 p.m." 

Monday 

7 p.m. EST 

Flight 472 to San Francisco 

"I'm not sure this is a good idea," Scully whispered to Mulder. "I've never seen Skinner this upset." 

Mulder's jaws moved against the sunflower seed he'd pulled from his pocket. "I have," he spat the shell into his napkin. "Don't worry. He is, if anything, more effective when he feels strongly about something. I remember the last time Skinner was this motivated," he smiled at her ruefully. "You wouldn't..." He gestured to the book tucked into the seat pocket. "We really should be reading up on our case..." 

"Animal Legends and Myths by Jeremiah Wilkins...Mulder, you have got to be kidding. These deaths are perfectly explainable, probably by something mundane. There has never been a recorded instance of a cat murdering an infant by 'stealing its breath'. Regardless of what my Aunt Martha used to say." The last was muttered softly. 

Mulder grinned, "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that. Your Aunt Martha used to say something?" 

She sighed. "My Great-Aunt Martha if we're being exact. When she used to come and visit, she'd chase our cat out of the house and insisted it not be in any of our bedrooms. 

She didn't want it harming any of the children, she said. Of course, this is the same aunt who also put bowls of milk on the porch every night for the little people." 

"And I'll bet the milk was always gone by morning," Mulder deadpanned. 

"Every time." 

Monday 

9:00 p.m. EST 

Flight 472 to San Francisco 

Scully slept in the window seat, slumped against Mulder's shoulder, her soft snoring tickling his ear. Mulder studied Skinner's profile in the darkened cabin. Even in a full flight, Skinner had managed to get both Mulder and himself aisle seats across from each other. Mulder appreciated the added leg room. 

Skinner hadn't said much during the flight, although he occasionally studied the letter on blue stationery. "Penny for your thoughts, sir," Mulder said softly. 

Skinner jerked and looked up from the page, "Oh, sorry, I must have been somewhere else." 

"Something important?" Mulder nodded at the letter. 

Skinner sighed and handed it across the aisle to him. "Only to me. This is the last letter Matt and Alex sent me, just after Shelley's christening. She had red hair, just like her mother.....They tried for five years to have a child and Shelley was a miracle when she arrived. And now this." Skinner shook his head. "I've known Matt since 'Nam," he smiled. "He married a cute redhead a few years ago; Alex is a lot younger than he is but she's crazy about him. She's a great match for him, no nonsense, very organized. She's the town librarian." He 

smiled. "She's a bit like Scully." 

Mulder looked over the letter and let the enclosed photo drop into his hand. A mischievous little face smeared with chocolate frosting grinned up at him, her red curls stringy with still more frosting. The letter said: 

"Hey Walt, I thought I'd drop you a line and show you Shelley's latest photo. Too bad you couldn't make it to her first birthday party; we all missed Uncle Walt, but she missed you the most. She loved the teddy bear you sent and has been dragging it all over the house since she opened it. You're sure it's washable? I hope so, because God knows what it's picked up in her travels. Hope you can make it out here the next time you're on the left coast..." 

Skinner took the letter that Mulder handed back to him and put it into his pocket. "I can't accept that this is just another instance of crib death. Matt is just broken up about it," he shook his head. Alex is still on sedatives, so Matt made all the arrangements." 

Monday 

**8:45 PM PST (11:45 PM, EST)**

"There's the exit for Potterville," Scully clutched the map and peered through the heavy fog. "You can't see much out there." 

"I thought they only had fogs like that in the movies," Mulder commented from the back seat. "Whoa, is that the welcome mat?" 

As Skinner took a hard right off the highway they could see a big sign that said "Welcome to Potterville, Catlovers' Haven. All felines welcome! Sponsored by the Potterville KatKlub(tm)." 

"Matt told me once that the town was founded by a bunch of eccentrics, now I believe it," Skinner muttered. "I'd forgotten about that." 

"Cats again. Hey!...watch out!" Scully yelped as two dark shapes skittered across the road in front of them and vanished into the fog. 

Skinner braked frantically as the car skidded and slid into a ditch. The three sat thoughtfully as the engine died and the car settled gently into rest. 

"You were saying?" Skinner said drily. "Well, we'd better call for a tow and see how far from town we are. Can you get your doors open?" 

Skinner's door opened on grassy embankment, as did Scully's. Mulder took a careful step and found himself knee deep in scummy water. He sloshed his way up the side of the road and joined the others on the pavement where Skinner was surveying the area by flashlight. Mulder couldn't see anything but fog. More fog. Dark fog. Light fog. Fog. And, barely, Scully standing next to him. 

"Mulder, where are y...phew!" Scully wrinkled her nose. "What did you step in?" 

"Probably some of the local sewage. Nothing to worry about, It'll wash off," Mulder vainly scrubbed at his shoes with his handkerchief but the smell just didn't go away. "The report said the CDC cleared the water?" 

"Ack..cough...Yeah. They didn't implicate it in the deaths. It's probably manure from the local fields added to runoff," Scully grimaced. 

Skinner interrupted, "I got through the auto club. The nearest garage doesn't open till morning. They said our best bet is to walk in to town and have the car towed in 

the morning," Skinner pocketed the cell, then his nose wrinkled. "Mulder, what happened to you?" 

"Nothing. Just a little sewage runoff." 

Skinner shook his head. "Well, we'd better get walking. Matt said that there's a motel just inside town; I've booked rooms for us there." He looked askance at Mulder. "We ought to get some dry clothes for you out of the car...no, maybe not. We can retrieve our luggage in the daylight." 

Skinner took the lead and the three set out down the empty road. 

Mulder squelched glumly along behind. He couldn't blame Skinner for not wanting to crawl down that embankment and maybe get a mouthful of sewage. Eerie countryside, what you could see of it. The fog shrouded everything, muffled every noise. He couldn't even hear his own footfalls very well. Only the feel of the asphalt pavement confirmed that he was even on a road. He swung his own maglite to the side and stopped when he saw one, two, no....four pairs of eyes gleaming from the darkness. "What the...did you see that?" 

"See what?" asked Skinner, turning around. 

"Eyes, shining just off the road. Animal eyes," Mulder gestured with his flashlight again but the eyes were gone. Skinner scanned the road with his light but there was nothing. He gave Mulder an unreadable look. "Let's keep going." 

Behind them, in the fog a group of dark figures gathered and silently watched the three agents walk forward toward the town. never happened. 

Tuesday 

5:30 a.m. 

The fog comes in on little cat feet...no, on soft little, velvet little kitten feet with bright eyes to watch you...fog is so thick, so heavy, it flows into the lungs like heavy cream and settles. Chest is heavy... breathing through mud... Can't breathe, try to pull the air in...breathe.. 

Mulder drew in a deep breath in a loud sucking wheeze and shot upright in bed. He panted and looked wildly around the twilit room. Motel. Oh yeah. Last night, no early this morning Skinner had checked them in. He ran his hand through his hair and slowly creaked his way out of the bed, hunting for a water glass. That was a new nightmare, not one of the old standbys. Gulping down the water...gaaak, what a flavor...he tugged the curtains open. Surprise! More fog. He could barely make out the shapes of cars in a nearby parking lot. The streetlights were still on but it didn't feel that early. He checked the clock, 9 a.m. "Does it always look like this?" 

"Every day in winter time," Skinner's voice came from behind him. "I found the connecting door. I'm glad you're up, Agent Mulder." Skinner, looking like he'd showered and shaved, was adjusting his tie. 

Mulder suddenly realized that he wore nothing but his shorts and dove for the clothes draped on the chair. Until the smell stopped him dead. Phew! He looked at Skinner helplessly. "I'm sorry sir but 

I'll have to wait for my luggage before I can get dressed. Unless you have some tomato juice or something for me to do my laundry in." 

Skinner stifled a smile. "I'll see what I can do. The tow truck should be coming soon to pick me up. I'll show him where the car is." 

Mulder nodded unhappily as Skinner returned to his room and closed the door. A few minutes later there was a tap on the front door. "Mulder? Are you decent?" 

"Scully, you know I'm always decent!" 

The door opened a crack. "Mulder, you aren't even dressed..." she caught a whiff and grimaced. "Oh, yeah. Do you want me to go to the store and get you some sweats or something?" 

"Skinner is going to get the car pulled out, but I'd appreciate it if you could find me something to wear until then. And I'm hungry; I can't go out for breakfast until I can get dressed." 

Scully grinned. "Okay, okay, can't have you starving to death. I think I spotted a store down the block. I'll see what they have. Be back in a minute or two." She closed the door behind her. 

Great. Sitting here half naked in a cheesy motel room in a cheesy little town with nothing to do but stare out the window and watch...hey...what? Coming from the fog he could see a small figure slinking toward the building. It was dark, no, a grey striped cat stalking it's prey. Then it pounced on a withered leaf on the pavement. Another cat. How many cats did this town have? 

Mulder blinked. Where did it go? Must've ducked behind something. Hmmm, he was a dog person himself, he'd never really trusted cats. They were fascinating, mysterious, but he'd always wondered what they were thinking. 

He leaned back into the chair. Cats. Stealing the breath of small children. Why? What would a cat want it for? And how did they get in? Well, that part was simple. Doggy doors and open windows probably. Now that he thought about it, this room was decorated in a kitty motif. Framed picture of sadeyed kitten with waif; cat pattern in the bedspread. Oh my God, "Porcelain cats on the dresser? What is _with_ this place?" He had a sudden urge to run away. Anywhere. 

Nothing to do but take a shower. His nose 

wrinkled in the direction of the pile of soiled clothes. At least he could get those laundered. He opened the closet and found a small plastic bag labeled 'dry cleaning', stuffed the suit inside and put it outside the room door. 

Now for the shower. He wandered into the bathroom, leaving the door a crack so he'd hear if Skinner or Scully arrived and turned the water on full. A small dark shadow trotted from under the bed to the bathroom door, sniffing at the steam tentatively. It was soon joined by a second, then a third. One cat sat back calmly on its haunches and began cleaning its paws, the second watched Mulder intently. The third ventured back toward Mulder's shoes and gave a loud _sniff_ when she'd gotten a snootful of eau de sewage. The other two glared at the third and as the water stopped they began to melt away. 

What? What was that noise? Mulder turned off the tap. "Scully? Are you back yet? Skinner?" Wrapping the towel around his waist, he peeked out the door. Was that a shadow moving in the corner of the room? No. Nobody here. Door was shut. Oh, there was a tap at the door, that must've been it. 

"Mulder? Open up. It's me," Scully's voice came through the door. He opened it gratefully and found an embarrassed looking Scully outside. "Mulder, I didn't find much but you'll only have to wear it until Skinner gets the car." She gave him a surreptitious up and down glance, then resolutely pulled her eyes away. _Not_ while they were working..."You're probably cold, Mulder. You ought to get dressed." 

"Thanks Scully, I was wondering if I was going to spend my morning in the altogether. Did you get..." 

"I got underwear, socks and a pair of cheap sneakers too. I don't want to go near those shoes of yours. I'll see you in the coffee shop, okay?" She handed him the sack and enjoyed briefly as he tried to hang onto sack and towel simultaneously, then left him to it. Mulder gladly peeled open the sack and pulled out undies...okay...black jeans...good...white socks...can always use them...black sneaks...okay...and a tshirt. A tshirt, alas in his size, it said "Welcome to Potterville: Kitty Haven!" and had a great. Big. Fluffy. Gray. Kitten. With a bow on it. He was gonna kill her. After breakfast. 

Kit-Kat Kafe 

7:30 a.m. 

Mulder swung open the coffee shop door and peered through the clutter, looking for his partner. Cats. More cats. Plush toy cats, cat statues, cat figurines, porcelain cats, glass cats, wooden cats (painted in bright colors). And all for sale. The pudgy woman behind the counter beamed at him. "Can I help you sir? I can see you're a fan of Potterville." 

"Agent Dana Scully," Mulder snarled, trying vainly to keep from baring his teeth. 

"Um...uh...she's at table nine, down past the stuffed persian and next to the crystal siamese statues..." The woman said nothing more as Mulder pushed his way past the postcard racks to the tables. 

"Mulder! Hi! I'm over here," Scully called brightly from her coffee and toast. He stalked over to her booth and plunked himself down across from her. She choked off a giggle and took a quick swig of coffee. "I see the shirt fits. I'm sorry Mulder but at this time of day this was all I could find at the gift shop. It's only until Skinner gets back. And besides," she finished in a rush before he could blow up. "You'll have a souvenir of the trip. And you did say you were hungry." 

"Skinner's not going to think I'm much of a manly-man in this getup," Mulder grumbled and poured himself a cup of coffee from the table carafe. Ahhh, good coffee, well, maybe the day wasn't going to be so bad after all. "Anything interesting in the local paper?" 

"See for yourself," she handed him the morning edition of the Potterville Sentinel. Screaming headlines proclaimed, "Seventh innocent dead! Will there never be an end?" 

"Hmmm, I'd say the locals are taking it well. It reiterates what Skinner already told us; no answers." He reached for his cup and saw, out of the corner of his eye, a small grey kitten watching him intently. No, he blinked, no there wasn't. Just the shadows under the coat rack. He shook his head and drank more coffee. 

"Ah, there you are," Skinner strode forward and deposited himself next to Mulder. "Nice shirt," he said drily and poured coffee into an empty cup for himself. 

"How's the car, sir?" Scully asked. 

Skinner shook his head. "It's just as well we waited till morning to get it out of the ditch. The driver didn't even have to tow it; he just spread something on the embankment and drove it right out." 

"That was a slippery embankment. What did he use for traction?" Scully asked. 

"Kitty litter," Skinner said blandly. 

Tuesday 

9:30 a.m. 

Our Redeemer Lutheran Church 

"Quite a few people here," Mulder commented as Skinner drew into the last parking space. 

"Most of the town, I'd bet. It's a very small, close-knit community." Skinner shaded his eyes. "I think I see Matt.." 

"Walt!" A tiny woman with long red hair broke from the crowd and ran to Skinner. "Walt, Walt I'm so glad to see you! My baby's dead...she's dead..." The woman threw herself into Skinner's arms and started crying. 

Skinner looked down in consternation, then wrapped his arms around her. "I know, Alex, it's a terrible thing. I'm so sorry," he said softly and held her close. 

Mulder and Scully exchanged glances. After a moment Alex drew a deep breath and looked up, sniffling. Nodding at Skinner, she stepped back out of his arms. "It's okay, Walt. I'm okay. It's just that the last time you were here..." She stopped herself and ran a hand across her eyes, then turned to face Mulder and Scully. "Hi, I'm Alex Moulton. You must be Fox Mulder and Dana Scully; Walt has told us stories about you two." 

"Nothing too bad I hope," Mulder shook her hand and noticed vaguely that she was even shorter than Scully. And she had turquoise eyes... 

"By no means. We, Matt and I, are glad you decided to come along and help us," she said slowly. 

"Then you don't believe that your daughter's death was from natural causes?" Scully asked, sizing the other woman up. 

Alex crossed her arms over her chest. "Shelley'd had a doctor visit a week before she died. She didn't even have the sniffles. There was _no_ reason for her to die and I don't believe it was crib death. 

I've already researched it; it doesn't run in my family or Matt's, she had no apnea or breathing problems before she died and she slept on her back!" She gave Scully a defiant glare. 

"But you do know that a certain percentage of SIDS deaths are never explained," Scully said quietly. 

"She is the seventh child to die in a year. For my money that's no coincidence!" 

"Sweetheart, let's talk about this later, somewhere quiet," A tall man in a dark suit came up next to Alex, then turned to Skinner. "Walt, it's good to see you again. I can't tell you how grateful we are that you made the trip." He scanned the other agents. "That all of you are making the trip." He looked over his shoulder. "Looks like the service is starting. Can you come over to the house afterwards? I want to show you something I found. But please, don't tell anyone what I told you on the phone, Walt. There are things you need to know first about this town." Matt turned and, grabbing Alex's hand, walked up the path toward the church door. Skinner motioned to his agents and the three of them followed the Moultons into the church. 

In the parking lot a small tabby cat curled up on top of the rental car's engine where it was nice and warm happened. 

The funeral service was short but moving. Mulder couldn't help feeling the sadness of it all, a small life cut off too soon. He idly looked over the resident congregation. If Matt was right, the whole town was probably here. 

Well, none of them looked like serial killers but then, they never do. He was glad to a seat at the end of the pew, grateful that he could stretch his legs out a bit. Next to him, Scully was also scanning the crowd like a good agent. Skinner...Skinner looked pale and wasn't taking his eyes off Matt and Alex. No, he was watching Alex. 

Mulder felt a soft brush against his ankle and looked down. A gray cat looked up at him with imploring green eyes, so he reached down a hand and began skritching him behind the ears. I wonder whose cat this is, he pondered. No collar or tags, where did he come from? Oh yeah, all the church doors were open for a good hour before services. 

He gently lifted the small body into his lap and listened to the purring and felt soothed. Unwilling to be hidden in Mulder's lap, the cat mountaineered up his jacket to a spot just under his chin, bumping it with the top of his head. Feeling guilty, Mulder just couldn't put the cat down and continued to scratch him and listen to the purring. 

It was hypnotic, the purring. He could feel himself relaxing, limbs going still; couldn't move if he tried. Everything slowed down, time slowed, too much effort to keep scratching but the cat didn't mind. 

Too much effort to do anything, no need to move the lungs. He felt the air draining out of him, flowing slowly out and down, ruffling the cat's fur. So peaceful... 

"Mulder? Mulder can you hear me? Mulder!" 

The cat was gone and Scully was kneeling over him. That wasn't right, we were sitting up in a church pew. 

Skinner's face swam overhead looking concerned and he heard a loud gasping noise and realized it was himself. Air...no air in here... 

"It's some kind of asthmatic attack, we have to get him to an emergency room," She said tensely. "Mulder, keep breathing, okay? Just keep your mind on breathing in and out." 

Mulder nodded and focused grimly on forcing the air in and out of his lungs while Scully and Skinner helped him to his feet and began to half carry him over to the sacristy. 

"Excuse me, but maybe this will help." A blonde woman in a green dress approached them as they were easing Mulder onto a couch. "I have asthma and always carry an inhaler." 

Scully all but grabbed it out of her hand and took a quick look at the canister label. Albuterol, good."Mulder, here's an inhaler. Push down on the top and breathe in at the same time. Give yourself two sprays." She handed him the inhaler and watched while he gave himself the doses. Slowly his breathing began to ease and he relaxed against the couch. 

"Thank you for that," Scully said. "You might have saved his life." 

"I'm glad I could help," the woman shrugged. "Having asthma is no picnic. Your friend should probably see a doctor and get some allergy 

testing done. By the way, I'm Darlene Eggert. I understand you're here to investigate the deaths." 

"Yes we are," said Scully. "Although so far I understand that the authorities have ruled the deaths were caused by SIDS." 

The other woman shook her head. "I can't say, but I know all the families and they're heartbroken." She shook her head."Well, if I can help in any way please feel free to call on me. I'm the town archivist and you can find me over at City Hall." 

"Thank you," said Scully, handing her the inhaler. 

Darlene smiled and opened the sacristy door," No, you keep it. I have more and he 

might need it again. I'll see you around," she said and slipped out the door. 

Scully frowned. "Mulder, we really ought to get you to an emergency room. If it's an allergy you might have another attack, possibly a worse one. Especially since we don't know what triggered it." 

"Wasn't allergy. The cat did it," Mulder wheezed, propping himself more upright on the couch. "It was stealing my breath." 

"Cat? What cat?" asked Skinner. 

Mulder blinked. "The cat that I was holding on my lap. It was a little 

gray kitten; it came up to me in the church." 

"Mulder, I didn't see a cat either," said Scully, feeling his forehead. 

"And you were right next to me. You must have had some hallucinations before you passed out." 

"There was a cat! It was a cute little thing and it sat there purring on my chest. You didn't see anything at all?" Mulder looked from Scully to Skinner as they both shook their heads. "It was _there_ and I'll prove it. Check my jacket for cat hair!" 

He struggled out of the jacket and Skinner folded it carefully front side in."I'll have it analyzed," he said. "But Mulder, you have to know this is a long shot. Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?" 

"And even if we find cat hair it only proves that you came into contact with cat hair at some time and you are very allergic to cats." Scully said. 

"Just send it, okay?" Mulder said and began to climb to his feet."Let's get this investigation going." 

Scully and Skinner exchanged glances and Skinner helped Mulder up. "I won't ask you if you feel able to continue the investigation, but if this happens again you're off the case. Got it?" 

"Yes sir," said Mulder. "But it won't happen again." 

"No, it won't," Scully stated and handed Mulder the inhaler. "Keep that on you just in case. And we're going to the drugstore to get you some heavy duty antihistamines and an epi pen. If you go into anaphylactic shock you'll need the adrenaline." 

"Scully, I'm not some semiinvalid who's allergic to bee stings!" 

Scully said nothing, just looked. 

"All right. All right...." 

1 p.m. 

136 Manx Ct. 

"I think that's the house, " said Scully eyeing the numbers on the white house with green shutters. 

"Okay, I'll let you out while I find a place to park. It looks like half the town is parked on the street ," Skinner replied. 

Scully climbed out and opened the rear passenger door to let Mulder out. He refused the arm she extended to help him and walked 

quickly to the front of the house to wait for Skinner. Scully sighed and followed him. 

Skinner circled the court and found no parking spots at all. Oh well, just have to go further out. There's one...He parked the car in front of a small gray house surrounded by a tall chain link fence. That thing was at least eight feet tall and the owner must be pretty paranoid, bars on the windows and were those halogen floodlights? 

Skinner got out of the car and as he slammed the door he jumped. Three huge rottweilers were throwing themselves against the fence, barking and whining. One dog looked like he was trying to squeeze under the fence to get at him. 

Skinner pulled out his gun but began to walk slowly away from the house. Behind him the frenzy continued as the dogs kept charging at the fence and being repelled. 

Around the corner he met Scully and Mulder waiting for him at Matt and Alex's front door. 

"What happened? Why's your gun out?" demanded Mulder looking around for assailants. 

Skinner grunted a short laugh and holstered the gun. "Nothing. Just some overexcited dogs. One of the neighbors has a house set up like a bunker,complete with guard dogs." He pressed the buzzer. 

Alex answered the door, "Please come in, we're so glad to see you." She led them into a living room crowded with people. 

"Agent Mulder, I hope you're feeling better? I have a guestroom if you need to lay down," she eyed him doubtfully. 

"I'm fine now, ma'am," said Mulder firmly. 

"Good," said Alex. "There's been enough sickness and death in this town for a lifetime." She glanced over the crowd and turned to Skinner, "Walt, we may not be able to talk for a few hours but please stay until the crowd leaves. Excuse me," She fell silent for a moment, then "Matt and I really need your help." 

"We'll be here," Skinner said softly. She nodded and melted back into the crowd. "Well Agents, we might as well mingle and see what we can find out." 

5 p.m. 

"Is that the last one? Thank God!" Scully sat down on the couch and reminded herself that she hadn't just taken the Lord's name in vain, it was a really prayer of gratitude. 

"Yeah, that's all," Mulder closed the door and joined her on the couch. 

Skinner took the armchair next to them and sipped at his soda. He'd been quiet all day, looking and listening more than talking. 

"Thank you for being here today," Matt sat down on the loveseat and leaned forward. Alex came over and quietly sat down next to him. "We have a lot to discuss," he said. "As you already know, we don't think these deaths were accidental and they certainly weren't caused by crib death!" Matt snorted. 

"Can you tell us what happened?" asked Scully. 

"I put Shelley down for a nap at about 4 p.m. I went back at six to check on her and I didn't need to have the light on, the room was dim but I could see and I saw a cat, I swear it, crouched over her. I ran forward and it looked up and I swear it looked at me, then it ran away somewhere. I wasn't paying attention. I went to check Shelley and she was dead, then I started CPR and called for Alex to dial 911." He brushed a hand over his face. "We didn't even think about the cat until later and, well," he shifted in embarrassment. "I remembered my mom always saying that cats stole babies' breath. Then when the government said it was all a crib death..." He fell silent. 

"Were there autopsies in the case?" Scully 

asked. 

"Yeah, but they didn't show anything," Matt said. "But there's something hinkey about this town and there has been since the day we moved in." He stood up and began to pace. 

"Have you seen the sheer amount of goddam _cats_ in this place? You can't walk ten feet without tripping over one of 'em." 

"Yes, we have noted quite a few," Skinner said drily. "Most of the businesses seem to have cat themes." 

"Well, there's a reason for 

that," Matt sat down again. "This place was first settled a hundred fifty years ago by a bunch of religious nuts.." 

"A religious sect, Matt," corrected Alex softly. "They were called the Potterites. I read up on them after we moved in; the library has quite a collection of their writings. It seems they held cats sacred. They felt that the cat was the animal closest to God, closer even than humans. They devoted their lives to keeping cats, studying them and performing rituals involving them." 

"Yeah," said Matt. "And they even say that some of the original cats died but never left here. They supposedly reappear as God's messengers, but how you'd be able to tell them from the rest of them I wouldn't know." 

"It almost sounds as if you didn't like cats," said Mulder. 

"I used to like 'em fine before we moved here and were surrounded by the damned things. And the thought that one of 'em killed my daughter makes me want to go out there and hunt them all down," Matt fumed. 

Alex put a hand on his arm."That would be a bad idea here. Most of the town are descendents of the Potterites. They don't worship cats any more but they do love them and keep them." Alex shook her head. "By the dozens. Being a cat hater isn't going to make you popular here." 

"You don't have a pet cat, do you?" asked Scully. 

"No, we're too busy to care for a pet. Shelley keeps us...kept us...pretty occupied," Alex said sadly. 

"Did any of the other affected families?" Mulder leaned forward. "Did any of the 

other families see a suspicious cat near their child before it died?" 

Matt shook his head. "If they did, they haven't told us." 

"Well, not everybody is a catlover," said Skinner. "On the way in I parked in front of a house with three big dogs." 

Matt nodded,"You mean Larry Schultz. Yeah, he has dogs, all right. It's a good thing he's got them fenced in. They were killing stray cats and animal control almost put the dogs down until he put that fence up." He pondered a moment. "You know, Larry and Paulette are the only family left in town with a kid under two years old. All the other babies have died," his face worked. "And our government says there's nothing significant here." 

"It sounds like we have some work ahead of us," said Skinner. "Agent Scully, I assume you'll want to review the autopsy records." 

"I think I'd like to look into these Potterites more thoroughly," said Mulder. "Where would that information be?" 

"We have some at the central library," said Alex. "But for the real scoop you'll want to talk to the town archivist, Darlene Eggert." 

Mulder's eyebrows rose, "We've met. Okay, I'll stop by her office and see what she can tell us." 

"I'd like to have a talk with local law enforcement," said Skinner. "We'd better be going." 

"I'll walk you out," said Alex, giving Matt a questioning look. Matt shook his head,"No, I'll stay here and clean up." 

Mulder and Scully walked ahead on the sidewalk, Skinner and Alex following behind. Mulder couldn't hear what they were saying but they seemed to be talking intently about something. He looked back briefly and saw Skinner leaning down close to Alex's face to murmur something to her. 

Behind them a small furry black head peeped out from some geraniums and watched them walk away. 

7:30 p.m. 

Kit Kat Kafe 

Dinner was quiet. Skinner said nothing, looking into space, munching his sandwich. Mulder's whole attention was focused on Skinner, examining him carefully. Scully watched Mulder watching Skinner for a while, then tried to break the silence. 

"So, any theories?" She picked at her salad. Skinner jerked his attention back to the table and caught Mulder's eyes. Mulder looked away quickly. 

"I think the Potterites bear a closer look," said Mulder through his cheeseburger. 

Scully shook her head,"Mulder, they're long gone. And besides, the legend doesn't say that the cats were hostile, just different. I think it's possible that this could all be the result of some kind of allergy." 

"How so?" Skinner asked, putting his half eaten sandwich down. 

"A severe allergic reaction can trigger anaphylactic shock, which includes wheezing and asthmatic symptoms like Mulder showed today. Death due to anaphylaxis would not necessarily show up on autopsy if the victim died quickly." 

"So you're saying that coincidentally all the babies in this town but one developed a severe cat allergy?" Mulder grimaced. "That's too much of a coincidence." 

"Statistically it could happen, especially when you look at the prevalence of cats in this community. It makes more sense than some kind of killer feline cult," Scully replied. 

"Well, check out both possibilities," said Skinner. "I think I'll take a walk." He got up and pulled his coat off the chair. 

"Sir, pardon my asking, but are you all right? You've been very quiet this evening," Scully stood up, eyeing Skinner clinically. 

"No, no I'm fine. I just want to get some air. I'll be back in an hour or so." He gave his agents a no-nonsense look and left the restaurant. 

"He's very affected by this death, isn't he? I'd almost say he's grieving." Scully folded her napkin and slid closer to Mulder in the booth. "He must be very close to the Moultons." 

"I think...maybe it's something more," Mulder said softly. Scully shot him a questioning look but he just shook his head. 

7:45 

Le Chat Noir Bar and Grill 

Skinner glanced nervously around the lounge, then spotted her, alone at a small table in the corner. He looked around him, then made his way to the table. 

"You made it," Alex stood up and hugged him. 

"What else could I do?" he replied. "Alex, we shouldn't be doing this. We decided.." 

"Yes, I know what we decided, but I had to see you, talk to you." She sat down, still holding Skinner's hands. "She's gone, Walt. Our little girl is gone." 

Skinner bowed his head,"She wasn't mine and you know it. We agreed that she would be yours and Matt's. We weren't going to 

discuss this again. Ever." He looked around the bar. "Do you know what it would do to Matt if he knew?" 

"I know," Alex said tightly and sipped her drink. "I love him too, remember? Trust me to find two great men and only be able to marry one of them!" 

"You chose right," Skinner waved over the waitress and ordered a drink. "My life just isn't, well, settled enough for a family right now. There are things about me you don't know about and it's safer that way." His eyebrows rose as he thought about some of those things and wondered briefly if Shelley had been killed to get back at him. No, if it had been directed at him they would have rubbed his nose in it by now. "You still love Matt, don't you?" God, I hope...what do I hope? 

She looked down at the table. "I'm not sure how I feel. Matt's so angry since Shelley died, I can't reach him. He wants to strike back at something, make it all right. But it won't be all right, will it? She'll still be gone." she eyed Skinner sadly. "I miss Matt. And I miss what you and I had, Walt." 

"I can't do that again, Shelley, so please don't ask me. Matt was my best friend in Viet Nam. He saved my ass a dozen times and I did the same for him." Skinner lowered his voice. "I hated myself every instant we were together, worrying about Matt finding out. I betrayed him once, I can't do it again." No more betrayals, ever, he reminded himself. No more friends hung out to dry, no matter what. 

"It wasn't a betrayal. In the end you gave him what he wanted most in the world: a child. Shelley was a blessing," she said. She watched him silently for a moment. "There's something else. Last night I went into Shelley's room and...just sat. I folded her blanket close, just to smell her scent. And I found this," she reached into her pocket and pulled out a baggie enclosing a tuft of gray fur. "It's from a cat, isn't it?" 

Skinner examined it,"It looks like it may be. I can have it examined. Do you believe Matt when he says the cat killed the baby?" 

"I don't know what to believe, I just want my baby back." Alex looked down at the table. "Walt, I feel so empty, I don't know what to do. And Matt's so distant; it feels like he blames me for this." 

"It wasn't your fault, Alex," Skinner said 

softly. "And we'll find out what happened." With Scully to follow up the logical, scientific leads and Mulder to hit the kookie and outre, they were covered all right. He sipped his drink and hoped that this wouldn't be the one time the pair came up dry. Alex just sat in her chair, so alone. He wanted to hold her, comfort her...No, that way lay trouble. He looked at his watch. "I need to get going. We'll let you know if we find anything." He left Alex sitting alone at the table. 

Kit Kat Motel and Kafe 

7:30 

"Scully?" 

"Yeah Mulder." 

"Whatcha doin'?" Mulder sat back on the bed, television remote in hand, idly flipping channels. 

"Reviewing the CDC reports Skinner gave us. I'll be meeting with the County Coroner tomorrow and I want to be prepared." Scully looked up from her folder. "Mulder, if you're bored why don't you go to a movie or something? I'm busy." 

Mulder frowned and put the remote down. Yes, he was bored. The library was closed and so was City Hall, so he couldn't do anything till morning. Although, now that he thought about it, he could go cat watching. "Think I'll go for a run," he said. There isn't much I can do for now, so I may as well check out the neighborhood." 

"Take your inhaler with you!" Scully reminded as he slipped outside. He didn't need an inhaler or that adrenaline pen Scully had insisted on buying for him. He wasn't allergic to cats, he'd been attacked by one. Well, he had his gun with him and no cat was going to get a second chance at him. 

The fog hadn't let up that he could see. Actually, it was thickening. He glanced around, looking for landmarks. The street was quiet and empty, the street lights dim and spaced far apart. He began to wonder whether this jog had been a good idea. 

He could see small dark figures out of the corner of his eye, ducking behind trees or just melting into the fog. He could feel his breath easing in and out of his lungs. Maybe it was time to get back to the motel. He stopped and looked around him and didn't recognize a thing. Okay, he'd just go back the way he'd come. He heard a rustling sound from behind him and turned. 

Nothing but fog. 

He slowly drew his weapon and pointed it in front of him, waiting for more sound. Nothing. Okay, try to get back to the motel, slow and easy. He started to walk, then saw out of the corner of his eye, two cats approaching on the left. And three more from the right. Then three slipped out of somewhere and planted themselves ahead on the sidewalk. Both were big; neither was moving. He headed to one side, intending to run in the street and avoid them, when he saw four more cats separate themselves from the shadows to block his escape. 

Mulder glanced over his shoulder and saw three more. 

He slowed to a walk and watched them close the distance between them. Nowhere to go, not even a tree to climb. He stopped and waited while they slowly surrounded him. 

10:00 p.m. 

Kit Kat Motel and Kafe 

"Sir, I'm concerned about Agent Mulder," Scully stood in the doorway to Skinner's room. "I've tried to reach him on cell phone and gotten no answer. He should have been back by now." 

Skinner looked out the doorway at the swirling fog and wasn't hopeful. "Do you know where he planned to go?" 

"No sir, he usually jogs a mile or two around wherever we're staying," She eyed the fog as well. "He doesn't usually stay out this late." 

"Let's take the car, then. Do you have your weapon? I'd like to try to find him before we contact local law enforcement." Skinner shot her a worried glance, then grabbed his keys. 

Scully peered through the windshield at the fog. It had thickened noticeably since she and Skinner had taken the car from the motel parking lot. Now it was so thick she found it hard to see the road; the street lights were so dim she could barely see them. "I don't like this," Skinner said, grimly clutching the steering wheel. "We can't see the sidewalk, much less Agent Mulder." 

"You aren't going to give up, are you?" Scully demanded. "We don't know what might have happened to him!" 

Skinner pulled the car over to the curb and cut the engine. "Agent Scully, I think we should look at the larger picture here. If the two of us get ourselves lost in the fog it helps neither Mulder nor the case we're here to investigate. It makes sense to wait for morning." Skinner paused, then sighed. "All right, let's continue the search on foot, but we stay together." 

"How far are we from the motel? A block?" Skinner asked tensely, focusing his flashlight on the ground ahead of him. 

"Two blocks, I think," said Scully, looking around. "This area looks familiar. Wait, there's a street sign. We're at the corner of Persian and Manx; that's near the Moulton's house, isn't it?" 

"Yes, we're near the place I parked and...what's this?" Skinner moved off the sidewalk and squatted near a clump of bushes in a vacant lot. He shone the flashlight at a dark object and gently lifted it up with a gloved hand. "It's a Sig Sauer; it looks like Mulder's weapon," he said grimly, standing up and surveying the area. "Can't see a damned thing in this fog!" 

"Hold it! There by your foot..." Scully picked a cell phone off the ground and flipped it open. "This is Mulder's. He must be around her somewhere. Mulder!" 

They both circled the lot, calling and searching under every bush and tree but found nothing. 

"The neighbor's dogs are awake," commented Scully. "Do you think their owner might know something?" The dogs, behind their tall fence had started barking as soon as the agents approached the lot and hadn't stopped. 

"Well, the owners certainly aren't asleep in all that racket," Skinner said. "Mulder's gun was under the bush right next to the chain link fence, so it's a possibility. Let's give it a try, but keep your weapon handy." 

They moved over to the front gate, the dogs following them from the other side. By now, the three of them were barking in a frenzy, throwing themselves at the fence. Skinner found a small sign next to the gate's latch, "Please ring bell." next to a second sign: "No Solicitors, No Trespassers, This means YOU!" 

"Friendly, aren't they?" Scully muttered. Skinner pressed the button. The dogs went berzerk, their barking rising to a fever pitch, slavering and pitching themselves at the fence. 

Skinner and Scully backed away from the gate, looking at each other with dismay. Skinner leveled his gun at the dogs, just in case one got out. The house's outside light went on, the door opened and a loud male voice yelled, "Moe! Curly! And you! Shemp! Quiet out there! Come here!" The dogs stopped barking and ran back to their master. The man, tall and very thin walked out to the gate, the dogs following him eagerly. "Who are you? What do you want?" the man demanded. 

Skinner holstered his weapon and pulled out his badge. "I'm Walter Skinner with the FBI, this is Agent Scully. We are wondering whether you might have seen one of our agents, Fox Mulder, this evening?" 

"Fox Mulder? What kinda name is that?" The man peered at their badges. "You must be the people in town to investigate the deaths." He stuck out his hand, "I'm Larry Schultz; why don't you come on in." He opened the gate and gestured for them to enter. 

Skinner and Scully looked at each other hesitantly, then at the dogs. Schultz laughed, "Don't worry about them. You're with me and their bark is worse than their bite. They wouldn't hurt a flea." Schultz gestured to the dogs, "Go on boys! Go on!" 

The dogs obediently ran to the back of the yard, leaving the humans standing in silence. Skinner shrugged at Scully and they followed Schultz into the house. A woman stood in the doorway as they entered, "Larry? What's going on out there? Oh. Who are you?" 

"These are FBI agents Skinner and Scully," said Larry. "They're here investigating all those crib deaths. They want to know did we see one of their agents? A Fox Mulder.." "He would have been in the neighborhood early this evening," put in Scully. "Wearing gray sweatshirt and pants." 

"In this fog?" snorted the woman. "I'm lucky if I can see a hand in front of my face. I haven't seen or heard anything unusual, except for those damned dogs." 

"Now Marie, you know why we keep the dogs," Larry muttered to her. 

"Why do you keep the dogs?" asked Scully. "That's an awfully big fence for family pets." 

"They're big dogs," Larry shot back. "Oh, come on, Larry. They might as well know," Marie gestured toward the living room. "Why don't you sit down. Would you like some coffee? The dogs are there to keep the cats out. This whole town is overrun with them." 

"Is there something wrong with the cats?" Scully accepted a cup of coffee and sat down on the couch. 

Larry sat down in the armchair, looking ill at ease. "You know how many kids have died over the last year? Well our little girl is the only baby left in this town. The first couple deaths people, well, talked. Shirley Hawson said she saw a cat hanging around outside their house before their little boy died. Burt Janovich saw the same thing before his girl died. But whenever people would talk to the authorities about it, they just got pooh-poohed. And the rest of the town went along with it. Damned cat lovers." 

"We got nothing against cats, you understand," said Marie. "I've even owned a couple in the past. But the folks in this town, they worship 'em. Won't say a bad thing about any cat! They did test some of the cats in the neighborhood for diseases but they found nothing. Ever since, if you say anything about one of their cats you get the cold shoulder from the rest of the town." 

"So four months ago we got the dogs," added Larry. "Got the biggest ones I could find and put a fence around this place. The dogs look fierce but they won't hurt humans. But they sure scare the cats away." 

"Your neighbors say that the dogs were killing neighborhood cats before you put the fence up," Skinner said. 

Larry said calmly, "I do whatever I have to do to protect my family. If any cat comes into this yard, it's dog meat. And if it gets past the fence, it doesn't belong here." 

"How long have you lived in Potterville," Scully asked, setting her coffee cup aside. 

"About two years? That right, Marie?" 

Marie nodded. "We thought this would be a friendly little community to live in. We'd just started a family and wanted a family-oriented place. And it was pretty friendly until the deaths started." 

"How many of the families who lost children were also cat owners?" Skinner asked 

Larry thought for a moment, "All of them except for the Moultons. Like I said, this is a catloving community." 

"Do you have any idea what might be causing these deaths?" asked Scully. 

Both Marie and Larry shook their heads. "No, we don't. Do you think we'd just be sitting here if we did?" 

Larry added. "The dogs are a precaution and they'll protect us against burglars as well as killer cats, if that's the real cause of all this. Just like we've started to use bottled water in case that's the cause and they just aren't telling us." 

Skinner looked at his watch and stood up. "Well, thank you for your information. Please be assured that we'll do everything possible to find the answer to this." 

"I'm sure you will," Marie said as she and Larry followed them to the door. "But for now, watch out for strange cats!" 

Outside the fog was still impenetrable. Scully shot Skinner a hopeful look but he shook his head. "No, we'd better get back to the motel and call in the local police for help. There's nothing more we can do tonight." 

Skinner managed to find his way back to the motel through the fog-shrouded streets. He was conscious of Scully craning her neck at the window trying to spot Mulder. He found he was doing it himself, but all he saw were strange images in the fog. He could almost swear he saw cats curling in and out of the mist, but they disappeared when he focused on them. 

Scully called the local sheriff's office and reported Mulder's disappearance. The deputy advised them that, since this was a small town, the two deputies assigned to the town wouldn't be on duty until 6 a.m. Since search conditions were bad it made no sense to wake them up and turn them to searching now. Skinner couldn't disagree and had to accept their judgment. He could see that Scully was equally uncomfortable with it. 

He silently walked Scully to her room, then went to his own. Damn that Mulder, he was always getting into trouble like this. No, that wasn't fair. Mulder threw himself at cases with his whole body and soul. It was inevitable that sometimes the cases fought back. 

Skinner carefully hung up his suit and padded to the bathroom in his skivvies to brush his teeth. He was worried; more than he wanted to admit. It wouldn't do to alarm Dana Scully and he knew for a fact that she wasn't going to sleep much tonight. She'd be worrying about Mulder, out there in the fog somewhere. And losing little Shelley. Alex was devastated and so was Matt. In a dim sort of way he felt responsible for Shelley's death, as though he had failed to protect her. But what could he have done? Crossed a continent to tuck her in every night? The possiblity of transferring to a local office had occurred to him but his home was in D.C. The fog almost had a personality, evil and persistent, hiding whatever it was that was killing babies. 

Now the fog had swallowed someone else from his life, dare he say from his family? Skinner rolled over, determined to get some sleep. Mulder is fine and we'll find him tomorrow. He's probably spending the night in somebody's guest room. 

Skinner shifted onto his back and stared at the ceiling. God, he didn't want to ever have to tell Scully that Mulder was dead. Please don't make it this time. 

Wednesday, 2 a.m.) Adrian Beloitte, age 26, sat on his couch surfing the late night movies. He hated the cheesy couch but his parents wouldn't buy anything better. They said he spilled so many crumbs and stuff on it that it wasn't worth replacing. The t.v. was ten years old and trashed too, the rabbit ears only gave them about four channels and one of them was PBS. 

He got up and adjusted the antenna. The snow cleared a bit, so he sat down again. Too bad his folks couldn't afford cable, the stuff on network television sucked big time. He scratched himself and meditated on his life. 

He lit up a cigarette and took a drag. They hated him smoking too, but what were they gonna do about it, huh? He was over 21 and an adult, so there! His parents were after him again about getting a job, said he was a bum and a loafer. Well, maybe so but he wasn't going to settle for just any McJob flipping burgers. No, he was made for better stuff. They just didn't understand he had to wait for the timing to be right, then he'd open the martial arts dojo he'd always wanted. Of course, he ought to work out some, he'd put on weight...maybe tomorrow. Where was that sack of chips? 

He scrounged around the floor next to the couch and his hand touched something warm and soft. What? A cute little gray cat, "Where did you come from, huh?" He picked it up and sat it, purring, in his lap. "Well, you sure don't look like that sour old furball Mom insists on calling Fluffy, are you." The cat looked up at him with deep fathomless eyes and snuggled under his chin, clearl asking for a skritch. He obliged and settled back into the couch, the cat's purring in his ears. What a nice cat. This was so relaxing...so relaxing.... His eyes closed and breathing grew slower and slower, then finally stopped. 

The cat cuddled up against him until it had drunk all the breath the man had in him. When Adrian Beloitte was white and still, the cat lightly hopped down from the couch and made a beeline for the cat door in the kitchen. A quick flip of the door and he was out of the house and padding up the street. He flirted in and out of the fog, seeming to be part of the landscape and disappearing entirely from view. At last he came to a small white house and went in at the back, where a window had been left open for him. 

He dropped from the window ledge onto the bedroom floor with a light thud and picked his way delicately over to the bed. 

"Buster, is that you?" A female voice came from the bed, then coughed harshly. She sat up and brushed her blonde hair from her eyes, putting down her book. "How'd you know I couldn't sleep? I could use the company..." she gave a hollow cough and reached for her inhaler. 

As Buster leaped up onto the bed, she was giving herself two hits from the inhaler, trying vainly to breathe the medicine in deeply. "Buster," she rasped. "You've been outside, haven't you? You're a bad kitty. You know you shouldn't be out tom-catting around on these winter nights, don't you?" She leaned forward, reaching for him. Buster butted his head against the palm of her hand as she stroked him. 

She coughed once and then again, propelled into a fit of coughing which left her breathless, her face very pale. Buster moved up the bed to snuggle next to her chest, watching her closely as she reached for the inhaler again. "I'm sorry, kitty. I know you hate the noise these things make, but Mom can't breathe too well just now." She shook the inhaler and took two more hits, gulping in the air, forcing it into her lungs as hard as she could, then fell back against the pillows. 

Buster watched her closely, then nudged himself up under her chin. She smiled and closed her eyes, sinking back into the bed. Her breathing slowly eased, the wheeze dying down into deep clear breaths as Buster's purring got louder and more resonant. "Yeah..." she whispered as she dropped off to sleep. "That feels better...much better...good medicine in that inhaler..." Buster just cuddled in closer, his purring filling the room. Darlene Eggert slept deeply and well. 

Wednesday, 

7:30 a.m. 

Scully woke to the sound of her bedside phone. She sat bolt upright and grabbed for it. "Scully," she said breathlessly. 

"They've just found Mulder," Skinner said. "Get dressed, we have to get going." 

Mulder looked around him and saw nothing but the cats slinking towards him through the fog. They watched him intently until the biggest cat made his move, a big gray tiger-striped tom, stalked toward Mulder. Mulder raised his gun and pointed it at tiger-stripe then saw movement flickering on the periphery of his vision. 

A black cat ran and jumped at him, knocking the gun from his hand with sharp teeth. The cat gripped, hung from his hand and let go, then grabbed the gun in his mouth and trotted off into the fog, dragging the gun with him. Mulder lurched sideways with the blow and clutched his bleeding hand to his chest. The cats backed away from him, still watching. He remembered that cats like to play with their prey before killing it and began to worry. 

The tiger stripe began to inch forward again. Despite himself Mulder backed away slowly, searching vainly in the fog for a house or some escape. Tiger stripe was joined by two, and then four more of the cats. Mulder began to panic and turned to run when he felt, rather than heard, the first cat jump onto him. Suddenly there were cats everywhere, and two more somehow tangled into his legs and he couldn't keep upright anymore. He fell to the ground, swarmed with a yowling, hissing mass of bodies 

"There now! You! Samson, leave the man alone!" A female voice came through the fog and Mulder found himself looking up into a pair of faded blue eyes. A old woman with white hair peered down at him uncertainly. "Are you all right?" 

Mulder looked wide-eyed up at her, then gingerly sat up. The cats had disappeared, all but one. Tiger stripe sat next to the woman staring at him unblinkingly. Mulder carefully stood up and brushed himself off. 

"I'm fine, ma'am," he said. "Excuse me, but is that your cat?" He eyed the tigerstripe which dispassionately eyed him right back. 

"Samson? Well, he stays with me. I can't really say I own him since he belongs to himself," she looked affectionately at the cat, which was now purring and twining itself around her ankles. "You look a little shaken, though. Why don't you come inside and have some tea?" She motioned toward a front porch that appeared from the fog. With a lit porch light. 

Mulder blinked and wondered vaguely where a three storey victorian house had popped from. "Yes, I'd like that tea, ma'am," he murmured and allowed himself to be led inside. 

Mulder soon found himself sitting on an amazingly comfortable horsehair couch in a period sitting room, sipping tea from a dainty wedgewood teacup. The old woman presided over the tea service like a pro, handing him cookies and water crackers with aplomb. The tiger cat, Samson he supposed, watched him like a hawk. No, like a small mouse at a mousehole. Mulder shivered and put down his teacup. "Mrs..." 

"Anderson. Mrs. Hannah Anderson," she beamed. "And you would be Agent Fox Mulder, lately of the FBI. We have heard of you and what you are here to do," she set down her cup and picked up the teapot. "More tea? No? Well, have another cookie then. In any case, Agent Mulder, we've been very distressed at the goings-on here lately." 

"We?" Mulder munched on his cookie. Really, it was very good. He didn't get home cooking very often. 

"My..um..friends and I. We've been in this town for some time and take a proprietary interest in the residents. These deaths aren't natural, as I'm sure you've figured out by now. I'm glad I was able to meet with you. I think I can be of help." 

Mulder sat up attentively. "Really? How?" 

"I know that you suspect that the trouble is caused by a cat, although you are not believed by the authorities. I agree with you about the source of the danger. My friends have been keeping an eye out and we've spotted the cat several times but have never caught it in the act." She put down her teacup and sighed. "I'm really very frustrated that I can't tell you where the cat is now or which humans house it." 

"You don't know where it is?" Mulder asked. 

"I know that we've seen four similar cats in this town and can tell you which humans those cats belong to. Whether any one of them is causing the trouble I can't say." She shook her head,"Cats have been integral to this community since it was founded. It upsets me that a cat should be killing children, and now has killed an adult." 

"There's been another death?" Mulder demanded, starting to rise from the couch. Mrs. Anderson waved him down again. 

"Yes and there's nothing we can do about it now. I don't have much time but here's what I know. Potterville has been a special place for cats from its inception. The original settlers believed that cats were more spiritually advanced than we poor humans. We held them in special esteem, rather as the ancient Egyptians did in their temples to Bastet. After we moved here we found that there was a natural spring with very pure water. Unfortunately it had an unpleasant odor which meant that humans used the water for irrigation but nothing more. The animals, well that was another story. Our cats began to drink it and began to change," she smiled and poured him another cup of tea. Samson leaped up onto the arm of her chair and purred, his eyes never leaving Mulder's face. 

"How?" Mulder divided his attention between Samson and Mrs. Anderson. 

"Because of this special spring water they became more intelligent and developed an ability to blend into the scenery. While normal cats can slip away unnoticed, our cats became almost invisible to the naked eye when they didn't want to be seen. We didn't notice these changes because we never saw a difference. We had been exposed to the water too, washing our clothing in it and even drinking it in the early days. We could always see the cats. But when we stopped using the spring after we found more desirable water, our ability to see the cats faded. Only those with a psychic gift saw them then." She leaned forward and Samson jumped lightly off her chair, to settle on the couch next to Mulder. Mulder nervously eyed the cat as it began to purr. 

"You, Mr. Mulder, were exposed to the spring water when you first came to town, so you can see our cats. I imagine your friends thought you were quite mad; a madness often shared with Potterville residents, who will see cats fading into the distance depending on their exposure to spring water and the presence of psychic ability." 

"That still doesn't explain how one cat can apparently steal the breath from 

babies," Mulder said challengingly. Samson stretched leisurely and wandered back to Mrs. Anderson's chair. 

"We never really found out all that the water would do. When we discovered that it was changing us we stopped using it and piped water in from a spring miles out. But the water is still there, used by the farmers for their crops. Anybody's pet cat could get to it. Now, I know that cats can be very determined and loyal creatures. Who can say why a cat might want a child's breath or what it might do with it?" She reached into a pocket and removed a slip of paper. "These are the households where the suspect cats live." 

"You keep saying 'we'. Who are you talking about?" Mulder looked around the room which suddenly seemed crowded with small furry bodies. He blinked. Or were they? All he saw now was a room filled with very plush furniture. 

"Just a few of the older residents of town. I'm sorry I can't give you some more definite suspects, but in the six months that this has been happening we've eliminated all of the town's six thousand cats but these four; which I think is a fine six months' work," she scratched under Samson's chin to Samson's ecstatic purr. 

"Six thousand cats?" Mulder gulped. 

"The town has ten thousand residents, over half of whom have cats, often two or more to a family, as well as the feral cat population. I think that's an accurate census," she said with a complacent smile. 

"I see," Mulder scanned the list. Four families, then, including...Darlene Eggert? Odd coincidence. Well, he'd been wanting to find out more about Potterville and she was a good place to start. He stood up,"Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Anderson, but I'd better be going. My partner will be worried about me. Maybe I should call her," he reached for his cell phone but it was gone. Damn! Must have dropped it during his fight with the cats. Those cats. "Mrs. Anderson, when we met I was being attacked by a pack of cats. You wouldn't happen to know anything about them, would you? Are they involved in this?" He searched her face for any expression, then felt vaguely dizzy and suddenly tired. Very tired. He looked at Mrs. Anderson, who suddenly appeared very blurry. He stood up unsteadily, trying to head for the door. The old lady had drugged him! 

She smiled brightly, "You look very tired, Agent Mulder. Perhaps you should lie down on the guestroom bed for a while." She grabbed his arm in a strong grip and propelled him into another room. He sank down thankfully into a soft feather bed, four-poster...you didn't see many of those any more. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Samson crouched over him, staring down at him. 

  * >^^<\-------------------------- 



Wednesday 

8 a.m. 

"Where are we going?" Scully asked tensely as she buckled herself in. 

Skinner swung the car out of the parking lot. "Damned fog, never lets up. Can't see the goddamned traffic in this burg. Where do you think? The Potterville Hospital," Skinner kept his eyes fixed on the road, largely obscured by the everpresent fog. 

"Where did they find him? How is he hurt?" She focused on keeping her voice calm, just as she always did in these situations. 

"The deputy said they found him in a vacant lot, unconscious. He revived on the way to the hospital and seemed incoherent. No visible marks on him but could be a head injury, judging by his behavior." 

Scully's lips quirked. "Or it could just be Mulder." 

"Well, we'll know soon. He's in the emergency room," Skinner parked the car in a red zone and opened his door. Scully eyed the "No Stopping" sign and got out of the car, following him. They were met at the door by a San Joaquin County Sheriff's deputy. 

"You must be Walter Skinner? I'm Tom Bertram, Sheriff's department," a tall blonde man approached and shook Skinner's hand. "And you're Dana Scully? Right, I've spoken with Agent Skinner by phone." He shook his head. "We found your agent early this morning." 

"Where is he?" Scully asked quickly before the deputy could say any more. 

"He's in with Dr. Evans. We should know something soon. Hey! You aren't supposed to be in there...Hey! Ms. Scully!" He moved away from Skinner, trying to follow Dana Scully into the examination rooms. 

Skinner neatly blocked his path. "How did 

you find Agent Mulder?" 

"She's not supposed to be back there...she'll regret it if she pisses of Doc Evans...Well, anyway," The deputy stopped craning his neck to follow Scully's progress and faced Skinner. "My partner and I were out looking for your agent this morning, about 6 a.m. and saw the weirdest thing," he looked around and leaned closer to Skinner. "It looked...the fog looked funny. Like cats were swirling around in it. Anyway, I caught sight of something moving in the bushes at a vacant lot. Can't really tell what it was, but Pete and I went in to check it out just the same. We found your guy curled up under a bush, out like a light. We tried to rouse him but he wouldn't wake up, so we called the paramedics." His voice dropped to a whisper. "But the weirdest thing of all? The fog was really thick last night and the trees, shrubs and ground were sopping wet. Your guy was bone dry. And he was surrounded by mud but there were no footprints there. Not even his." 

Bertram shook his head and folded his arms. "I rode in the ambulance with him in case he woke up and said something. Well, he said something all right. He woke up and told me he'd been mugged by a bunch of cats!" 

* * *

"Can I see him?" Scully gave the nurse her most professional look and flashed her badge. "I'm Agent Mulder's partner and a medical doctor myself." 

"You can ask Dr. Potter yourself," the nurse gestured toward a woman in a white lab coat just exiting one of the examination rooms. 

"Dr. Potter?" Scully moved up to her. "I'm Dr. Dana Scully, Mulder's partner. Can I see him?" 

Potter set a chart down and drew a bead on Scully. "Agent...Dr. Scully? Your partner needs the services either of a trained psychiatrist or a psychic. I'm not sure which." 

"What are his injuries," Scully anxiously eyed the chart Dr. Potter had just set down, itching to pick it up and read it. 

The doctor sighed,"He has no head trauma, his bloodwork comes back normal and I find no evidence of injury. Yet his account of the evening is nonsensical. If you'd like 

me to refer him for a psych workup, just let me know and I'll be happy to help you." She gave Scully a hopeful look, "But you may want to wait until you get him back home to do that." 

Scully smiled, "I can see him, then?" 

"Very shortly. I'm discharging him, he's dressing now." 

"Scully! Hey!" Mulder came out of the room, adjusting his gray sweatshirt. Scully saw no stains or signs of violence on his clothing, no bruises or marks that she could see. 

"Hey! How are you feeling?" She quickly examined what she could see of him, reaching out to feel for fever. Mulder batted her hands away. 

"I'm fine. Really. But I need to tell you what I've discovered," he looked around and spotted a grim looking Skinner coming down the hallway. 

When Skinner caught sight of Mulder his expression eased but didn't change entirely. "Agent Mulder, can you explain what happened to you?" Skinner moved in closer and added softly, "And why everybody I talk to wants you committed?" 

"Yes I can sir, although it's a long story." 

"I have nothing but time." 

9 a.m. 

Felix's Pancake House 

"And the next thing I know, I'm in an ambulance," Mulder finished off a pancake. "I think Mrs. Anderson offered some genuine insight into the problem." 

Skinner turned to Deputy Bertram who'd come to breakfast with them. "Do you know any Hannah Anderson?" 

Bertram jerked and then frowned. "The Andersons haven't been around for years. I don't know of anybody of that name living in the town any more." He gulped down his coffee and turned to Mulder. "What did you say her house looked like? A two story victorian?" At Mulder's nod, Bertram stood up,"C'mon. I want you to see something." 

Skinner put some money on the table and the agents followed Deputy Bertram. Outside the cafe, Bertram pointed,"There, down the street is city hall. Follow me," 

he led them down three doors to a tall oldfashioned building and up a set of marble 

steps. Inside the lobby he waved at a receptionist and led them to a door labelled "City Archives", turned the brass knob and ushered them in. 

Skinner and Scully looked around with cool curiosity, missing the avidity on Mulder's face. 

A woman at a computer turned around and smiled, "Hey Tom! It's great to have some company; and you brought friends with you." She stood up and shook hands,"Agent Skinner, Scully, I'm so glad to see you again. Agent Mulder, I hope you're feeling better than the last time we met." 

Mulder eyed her closely, then grinned and pulled her inhaler out of his pocket, "I suppose you'll want this back. I seem to have my own now. Say, who's this?" A small gray head popped out from under the desk and a pair of bright green eyes stared balefully at him. 

She took it with a smile and set it on the desk. "This is Buster, my best buddy and partner. He likes to come to work with me." Buster gave the agents a long stare, focusing especially on Mulder, then dived back under the desk. Darlene shrugged, "I guess he isn't in the mood for guests." She turned to where Bertram was already going through a file cabinet. "Can I help you find something, Tom? Or is this a warrant search?" 

She moved over to the file cabinet, Skinner and Scully following. Mulder trailed behind, watching the cat who was still eyeing him from under the desk. 

Bertram pulled away from the drawer, mildly embarrassed. "I'm trying to find the town yearbook for 1900; there's a picture in it I want to see." 

Darlene looked puzzled but went over to the cabinet and pulled it out of the bottom drawer,"Help yourselves. There's a library table over there, if you need it." 

Bertram thanked her and led the agents to the table and opened the book to the flyleaf. "Is this the house?" He pointed to a yellowed photograph of a victorian house, two stories tall with elaborate gingerbread trim. 

Mulder examined it carefully, then nodded."Yes, that's the place all right. That's where I was last night." 

Bertram thumbed the book a few more pages over to a color photograph of a painting. It depicted an older woman in a formal nineteenth century gown, holding a large 

tiger-striped cat on her lap. "Does this look familiar?", Bertram asked. 

Mulder looked at the picture, then up again."That's Mrs. Hannah Anderson and that," he pointed to the cat, "Is Samson." 

Bertram shut the book. "She's been dead for eighty years. The house was razed in 1955 and is now is a vacant lot next door to the Schultz place. She was the last Anderson in Potterville, and the last surviving Potterite. They called her the cat-lady because at her death they found she had over twenty cats in her house." 

"Then I'd suggest that she still has an interest in the town," challenged Mulder. "Enough to arrange a meeting with me." 

Scully shook her head,"Mulder, you've had a trying couple of days. This vivid dream you had may be the result of the attack you had yesterday or possibly a reaction to the medications. Maybe you should go back to the hotel room and rest." 

"No, Scully, there's more information to be found here. Mrs. Anderson wanted me to help and I'm going to do just that." Mulder gave them a pleading smile. "I have the feeling that the answer is here." 

Skinner sighed, "Then at least we can continue the other avenues of the investigation that were postponed since your disappearance. Agent Scully, I think you had an appointment with the coroner's office?" 

Scully got up,"It's just two doors down, not far." 

"Good. I'd like to follow up some other leads. I'll take the car and be back here in," he checked his watch. "Three hours. Is that okay? All right, I'll see you then. Deputy Bertram, I have a few more questions for you..." Skinner and Bertram left the office. 

"He's trying to keep Bertram from spreading this to the nearest Field Office," Scully said quietly. 

"Since when have I cared about what they think about me?" Mulder said, focusing on the book intently."You know me, Spooky Mulder!" 

Scully sighed and took her leave as well. 

Mulder riffled through the yearbook's pages. Yes, that was Hannah Anderson there. He'd bet on it. 

"Agent Mulder, can I find anything else for you?" Darlene stopped by the table, a stack of files in her arm. 

Mulder smiled up at her,"Do you know anything about Hannah Anderson?" He pointed to her portrait in the book. 

Darlene set down the files and took a seat next to Mulder. "She was one of the town's founders. She died in 1920 after leaving all her money to her cats," she smiled. "Even though the heirs disputed it, the cats won and the last cat died in 1932 after a life of luxury in Hannah's house. Funny thing, though, some people say that Hannah never left. She seems to be a sort of guardian angel for the town," Darlene stood up and grabbed her files. "At least that's what the townspeople say." 

"How about you? What do you think?" 

"I wouldn't know. We've only been here eight months, Buster and I." 

"Buster? Your son?" Mulder closed the book and set it on the table. 

"No, my cat. I moved here to get out of the Bay Area. The air there was killing me; my asthma was terrible there. I'd heard that Potterville was very catfriendly and was lucky to get the job here. And so, here we are!" 

"Your asthma was bad, huh? I'm pretty new to this stuff. Has moving here been a help?" 

She nodded her head vigorously. "Oh yes! In the bay area I was in the emergency room at least once a month with a severe attack and I was on two or three different inhalers. There were places I just couldn't go, like perfume counters or anywhere near cigarettes or I'd be sick for days." 

"And it got better here? When?" 

"Within about two months of moving here. It took a while for the Bay Area influence to wear off, I suppose. My doctor is very pleased with me these days." 

Mulder got up and wandered over to Darlene's desk and picked up a framed photograph. "Family picture?" he asked with a smile. 

"Oh, that," Darlene laughed."One of my friends insisted on taking a shot of me with Buster. 'For your desk,' she said. Everybody has a family picture on their desk and I should be the same. Buster's a 

Russian Blue; they're very intelligent and very friendly cats," she laughed. "He'll even fetch paper balls when I toss them." 

"Just like a dog," Mulder commented. 

"No, better than a dog. A Russian Blue will fetch, then teach its owner how to fetch it themselves. One step past what a dog will do," she smiled at the photo fondly, then put it down on the desk. 

"He must love you very much," Mulder said gently. "I know that lots of people are allergic to cats; I'm surprised that your asthma doesn't get worse when you're near him." 

"No, that's the surprising thing. Mine actually seems to get better when I'm with Buster. Isn't it funny? Sort of an antiallergy." 

"I imagine you've noticed it especially since you moved here," Mulder said, watching her closely. 

She frowned and said slowly, "Well, yes, I suppose so. Buster didn't affect my asthma either way when we still lived in San Jose. But lately, it is true that I feel better somehow when he's near me, especially when he sleeps on my bed..." 

"Darlene, you've heard about the babies' deaths lately haven't you?" Darlene nodded and Mulder continued. "Several family members of those who died reported seeing a cat near the victim and believe that somehow the cat caused the death." 

She was silent and Mulder went on. "Yesterday, in the church, I didn't have asthma. I gray cat with green eyes attacked me and stole my breath. You saw the result." 

She frowned,"That's ridiculous! It's an old wives tale about cats' stealing breath!" 

"Has it ever occurred to you just why a cat might want the breath of a child? A young, vital child with a life-full of breath in him?" Mulder said softly. "Maybe to give to a loved one who didn't have enough breath?" 

She stared at him in horror, "You can't mean that Buster...Buster couldn't do something like that! It's an old wives' tale and that's all it is!" 

"You're the only one who can say how your health has improved since you and Buster moved here and since the babies started 

dying," Mulder went on. "There's only one baby left in town, and it's surrounded by a barbed wire fence and three dogs. He's begun hunting adults now and if he's not stopped, there will be more deaths. Only you can say what a difference Buster makes to your asthma." 

She met his eyes, "Buster isn't doing this. He's just a cat." She stopped, wheezing, then continued. "That's all he is!" She stood up suddenly and began to cough, barely able to catch her breath and moved toward the inhaler on her desk. Mulder rushed ahead of her and snatched it off the desk. She, wheezing harder, reached over the desk and opened a drawer, her hand scrabbling through it. "Let...me...get...." 

Mulder dispassionately grabbed the second inhaler from the drawer, then backed away from the desk to the far corner of the room. Darlene, struggling for breath, sank down into an office chair. Buster peeked out from under the desk and, seeing that Mulder was on the far side of the room, moved quickly toward Darlene. He began to twine himself around her ankles, then backed up and took a running jump into her lap. Her arms went around him reflexively and she held him close. As she did so, the blue color began to leave her skin and her breathing quickly eased. 

"Can you deny the truth now?" Mulder asked from the far side of the room. 

She looked at him with wide eyes, then looked down at Buster who sat purring against her chest."I won't let you kill him. I'll lock him in the house, keep him from getting out." 

"Do you want to take that chance?" 

She held onto the cat more tightly. "You don't understand. Buster found me at my old apartment. He was starving, neglected; he'd obviously been abused. I fed him for weeks and finally coaxed him into the house and took him to the vet. He loves me and he trusts me," she buried her face in his fur. "He's only doing this because he loves me. He's my family and I won't betray him!". 

"You have to turn him in," Mulder said inexorably. "Otherwise more people will die. For you. Can you live with that?" 

"No! I won't!", she said suddenly and held Buster tight. She ran with him for the door but Mulder was faster and grabbed an armful of fighting cat. Buster clawed and scratched but Mulder wouldn't let go. He 

backed the cat into a coatrack, knocking a raincoat off and maneuvering it around the cat. 

Darlene moved in on Mulder and started punching and kicking at him, trying to make him lose his grip on the cat. Mulder didn't know how long he'd last but wasn't going to give up, even though he was sure that Buster was chewing a hole through his arm. Buster slowly stopped moving and Mulder began to hope that the fight had gone out of him when Mulder began to feel short of breath. Oh no...Darlene said Buster was bright. The air felt thick, like breathing syrup. Mulder hung grimly onto the cat and began to wheeze. 

"See...Darlene! This is what Buster does...He can't help himself!" Mulder gasped and slowly dropped to the floor, curling himself around the cat. Darlene stepped away from him in dismay. Mulder struggled to breathe, pulling in air with an increasingly loud rasping sound. 

"Drop him and he'll stop it," Darlene shouted, in tears. "Don't make him do this!" 

Mulder fixed his glazed eyes on Darlene, "If...he kills for you...you better see it. This is his gift to you!" He coughed, trying to catch his breath but held on tighter as the cat began to struggle again. 

Darlene moved in again and began kicking and grabbing at Mulder. "Let him go! Just let him go and I'll take him away from here! Please, just let him go..." 

Neither of them heard Scully enter the room. 

"Get away from him," Scully barked at Darlene, who slowly moved away from Mulder. Mulder lay on the floor, his arms clutched tightly around the cat, a firmly wrapped, struggling, hissing bundle. "Mulder, can you hear me?" 

Mulder didn't respond but he was still wheezing long breaths into his lungs. Scully looked around and spotted the filing cabinet. She opened the bottom drawer, tossed out the files, then went over to Mulder and carefully took the bundle from him. He resisted at first but then gave in when he realized it was Scully. Holding the cat at arm's length, Scully deposited him in the drawer and closed it. 

"He can't breathe in there," protested Darlene. 

"He can breathe a damn sight better in there than Mulder is now!" Scully bent over Mulder and scooped an inhaler off the floor."Take this. Now, Mulder!" 

Mulder obediently inhaled. 

He kept breathing doggedly and waited with Scully and Darlene for Animal Control to arrive. 

Thursday 

3 a.m. 

Potterville Animal Control 

A dark figure carefully circled the building, then crouched near the front door. "Good thing they never updated the locks," Darlene whispered as she pulled the master key from her pocket. "And even better that they kept the spares at City Hall in the Receptionist's desk." 

The door opened and she went inside. The building was quiet, with few animals here. Ah, there's the dog kennel and here the cattery. She opened another door and found the cage she was looking for. Green eyes glowed at her from the darkness."I'm so sorry, Buster. I came as soon as I could." She pulled him out of the cage and cuddled him close, then carried him out the door. 

In the car his carrier sat on the passenger seat and he gratefully went into it. She slid into the driver's seat, closed the door and hit the gas as hard as she could. She wanted to get the Hell out of this town as fast as she could. She'd buckle them both in later when she was far far away from here. 

She kept her headlights off to avoid being seen, but doubted the sheriffs would find her. Heh, they didn't go on duty till 6 a.m. They were home sleeping! She turned into Potterville road and increased her speed, then turned on her headlights. Thank God they were getting out of here! She gunned the engine, then suddenly saw dark shapes running across the road.. three, no four cats stood in the road, their eyes glowing in her headlights. She hauled the steering wheel to the right to miss them. 

The car veered sharply right, running off the road and into the tall oak that had stood there for four hundred years or more, then came to rest with its hood wrapped around the tree. A few minutes later a small gray cat climbed out of the window and stood hesitantly on the grass. Three cats broke from the bushes and moved quickly toward the gray cat, hissing with 

tails erect. The gray cat backed away slowly and then more swiftly as the other cats ruthlessly chased it into the countryside. 

Thursday 

6 a.m. 

"Mulder, wake up!" Scully stood next to Mulder's bed when he pried his eyelids open. 

"What? What's happened?" He sat up. 

"Darlene Eggert broke into Animal Control last night and took Buster," Scully explained. 

"Damn!" Mulder got out of bed and pulled his slacks out of the suitcase. Scully averted her eyes and went on. 

"There's more. She apparently ran her car off the road early this morning and was killed instantly. The cat carrier was broken open and there's no sign of her cat. He's loose." Scully folded her arms in consternation. 

Mulder zipped his slacks, then buttoned his shirt. "Then we don't need to worry." 

"What do you mean? It's a killer. You said so yourself," Scully protested. 

"No, there's no danger now. Buster was stealing breath to keep Darlene alive. He was killing for her. Now that she's gone, he has no reason to kill." Mulder heard a tap at the window and turned to look. "What's that noise?" 

Scully looked up. "What noise?" She followed Mulder to the window. "There's nothing out there..." 

"Yes, there is," Mulder opened the window and retrieved the cat collar that Samson had just dropped. "It has a tag on it...Buster. I think the problem has been taken out of our hands by a higher authority." 

Thursday 

1 p.m. 

"Are you sure you have this solved? Was this cat really the cause of our baby's death?" Alex asked Skinner. Skinner's hands tightened around his drink. He hadn't wanted this meeting, again without Matt. There was too much danger here. 

"Yes, we found the animal that did it. It attacked Agent Mulder several times, so we have proof of what it was able to do," 

Skinner replied, hoping his discomfort didn't show. 

He supposed it must have because Alex wouldn't meet his eyes. "You don't think we could...It really is over between us, isn't it Walt?" 

"It has to be, Alex. We made our choices a long time ago," Skinner replied."Whether you can be happy with Matt or not is up to you. In either case, you wouldn't be happy with me. We've changed too much. I've changed too much." 

She got up and gave him a watery smile, "Well then, I'll kiss you goodbye.Good bye Walt." She placed a delicate kiss on his lips, then walked out of the bar. 

Skinner sat for a long time wondering whether he'd made the right decision. 

Saturday 

Reno, Nevada 

A small gray cat picked its way carefully through the weeds. His ribs showed that he hadn't eaten much recently, and his fur was matted. He felt safe now, far far away from the angry ones who had driven him from their territory. He had lost his person, felt her die, and he grieved for her. He knew that man, the tall one who'd trapped him, had something to do with it and he'd get even with him if he ever saw him again. But until then he had to survive. And maybe find another person to be his human. He made his way up a dilapidated front porch where he hears faint coughing and gave a loud mew. 

The door opened and a small boy opened it. The boy's eyes grew wide when he saw the cat sitting there, looking at him imploringly. The boy gave a wheezy laugh of delight and bent over to pick up the purring cat. 

"Mom! Look what I found!! Can we keep him?" 

**THE END.....**   
  


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